


Love and Forgiveness

by New_day



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Dialogue, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 19:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_day/pseuds/New_day
Summary: Despite his love, his gratitude and the pleasure that is flooding his body, he finds himself thinking:“He doesn't deserve this. After everything he's done, he doesn't deserve any of this.”But after all, love is not about getting what one deserves. It pays you a visit or it doesn't.





	1. Chapter 1

Will loves the moment they die.

When the heartbeat stops, the screams and moans cease, the body goes limb. He loves feeling powerful, knowing that justice is served by his hands. He thinks of the pictures he saw, testimonies of the pain this pig inflicted on so many people. It will never be able to harm anybody again. Will feels euphoric and a bit dizzy.

He beams at Hannibal. Their bond is never as strong as in these moments, after a kill, after engaging in their beautiful, deadly dance. Hannibal smiles back at him.

“No matter how often I am going to see you like this,” Hannibal says fondly. “I will never tire of the beauty of it, dear Will.”

Will reaches out for Hannibal, and Hannibal embraces him. Will puts his head on Hannibal's chest, an imitation of their hug before the fall, which has become a ritual after every kill.

 

They are home again.

They didn't cover their tracks. Everybody will know it was them. Soon Hannibal will read Tattle Crime, pretending to be offended, but actually delighted by Freddie Lounds' stories about “Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter and Will 'the Creep' Graham, aka 'The Infamous Murder Husbands'” (“You served long pig at dinner parties, and now I'm the Creep?” Will complained when he read this headline after their last kill).

They showered, cleaned each other and dressed each other's wounds. Hannibal took care of the meat he will prepare tomorrow. They are in the bedroom now, and Will feels Hannibal on top of him and inside him.

“I love you,” he says.

Hannibal doesn't respond. He doesn't have to. Will can tell by the way he looks at him, by the softness in his gaze and the shimmer in his eyes.

Will knows Hannibal is in love with him, and he has known for a long time that he is in love with Hannibal. He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he knew. After they killed Dolarhyde, there was no point in pretending anymore. He accepted what he had become, and this included accepting his feelings for Hannibal. The affection he feels for him, the attraction, the desire. He has never been with a man before, but he has never desired any woman as strongly as he desires Hannibal.

But above all, he feels gratitude. No matter what will happen, no matter what Hannibal did and might still do to him, he will always be grateful for the way Hannibal accepted him, every part of him, the darkness and the light. Jack's grumpy investigator, Alana's unstable friend, Molly's sweet man. Hannibal loves and cherishes them all. 

Most of all, he cherishes the monster.

The part of him that wants to fight wickedness with righteous violence, that craves feeling the power of taking a life. Hannibal nourishes this part everybody else refused to see, he loves it and finds beauty in it. By accepting him, he gave Will the gift of self-acceptance. A rare gift, Will thinks, and suddenly, this unwelcome thought makes him shudder. It makes him think of a cold linoleum floor, of desperation and hopelessness and of blood, so much blood.

Despite his love, his gratitude and the pleasure that is flooding his body, he finds himself thinking:

“He doesn't deserve this. After everything he's done, he doesn't deserve any of this.”

But after all, love is not about getting what one deserves. It pays you a visit or it doesn't.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Hannibal prepares scrambled eggs with sausage for breakfast, as he always does after a kill. Another ritual, which reminds them of another breakfast years ago, when Hannibal already knew he was in love with Will and Will didn't know anything at all because he still refused to see.

Will eats greedily. Killing always makes him hungry, and the food is delicious. He enjoys every bit of the pig they slaughtered together.

But the dark thoughts he had last night keep coming back. He looks at Hannibal and suddenly finds himself saying:

“I want a dog.”

He doesn't know why he said that. Will knows Hannibal won't have it, a dog, barking, drooling, shedding and making a mess of their fancy place. And, above all, demanding Will's time and attention and his love.

He almost chokes on his food when Hannibal says:

“As you wish, but I would prefer a pure-bred, well-trained dog to a stray.”

Will quickly regains his composure. “I'm sure you would. You know I loved my strays, but I'm willing to compromise and get a pure-bred dog. But you realize, Hannibal, that even the best trained dog with the best pedigree can be messy, loud, annoying and simply everything you might consider rude? You know I enjoy long pig, but I don't want to walk into the kitchen one day and find the remnants of my dog in the fridge.”

Hannibal frowns slightly, a rare expression anybody except Will might overlook.

“I would never do that to you, Will.”

Are you sure, Will wants to say, after everything you already did to me? But instead, he asks:

“How would we name it?”

Hannibal smiles and answers:

“How about encephalitis?”

Will scoffs. “You really are a sick fuck, Hannibal. We might as well call it Freddie. Or Bedelia.”

Despite the rudeness of Will's remark, Hannibal seems amused. “Or we could call it Abigail.” 

Will can feel the blood drain from his face. He takes a deep breath and says: “How dare you...how can you even...Do you think this is funny?”

Hannibal seems genuinely surprised. “I did not intend to be funny. I thought it might be a good idea, as we both share fond memories of Abigail...”

“Fond memories?” Will spits out the words. “The last memory I have of Abigail is a pool of blood, her blood on my face, and the noises she made when you cut her throat. How dare you talking about her.”

Hannibal lowers his gaze for a moment. “You said you forgave me, but I always suspected this to be untrue and merely a means of manipulating me. Obviously, my suspicions have finally been confirmed.”

Will shakes his head. “It's not as easy as your narcissistic mind may imagine it, Hannibal. I did forgive you because I know you. I wouldn't have been able to forgive any other person for this, but you are not like anybody else. We are both our own kind of monster. I know what our friendship meant to you, what it meant to you to tell me about your sister, to eat human meat with me, to let me see you. I know how special and unique I am to you and how lonely you were before me. That's why I can forgive you, for everything. But,” Will adds, his voice trembling, ”you will never convince me that this was the only possible outcome. Even being what you are, what we are. There would have been another way. You should have told me she was still alive, and I should have told you about Freddie Lounds and my deal with Jack Crawford. I'm willing to admit that I had a part in it, that everything that happened was partly my fault. But you are the one who did it, Hannibal. You cut her throat. How can you even live with that? I know you loved her like a daughter. Do you even feel guilty?”

Hannibal looks at him, his expression completely blank. “You know, Will, that I am, as you choose to put it, my own kind of monster. I'm nothing like other people, and I was under the impression that you knew and even appreciated this. You know I never feel guilty for anything.”

Will sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“However,” Hannibal adds, “I have to admit that the unfortunate course of events was based on a misconception on my part. I assumed that you had lied to me and betrayed me because you despised me and your own true nature and wanted me dead. I am now aware that your feelings were much more complex and agree with you that there might have been another possible, more fortunate outcome if we had both been honest with each other. And as you accept you had a part in it, I am willing to accept that a big part of the blame is on me as well. But what purpose would feeling guilty serve, Will? It would only taint our time together, the beauty and uniqueness of it. I am aware, though, that everything we have could have been even more beautiful if Abigail was sitting at our table with us now, discussing possible names of our future pet.”

Will looks at Hannibal. He knows how much this elaborate answer must have cost him, an apology without really apologizing, a confession of guilt without really admitting feeling guilty. He knows this is the best he can get and much more than anybody else will ever get from Hannibal. He takes his hand.

Hannibal blinks and looks down at their hands, surprised.

“Okay,” Will says softly, “let's call her Abigail.”


End file.
